Master tactician or failing bungler?

HUGO CHÁVEZ has never been one to worry about a little inconsistency. Venezuelans, along with their neighbours, have become accustomed to his habit of switching from firebrand to conciliator and back again, with barely a pause for breath. But even by his own remarkable standards, Venezuela's left-wing president has recently been showing new virtuosity in the art of making surprising U-turns.

In January this year he told a startled world that the FARC guerrillas in neighbouring Colombia should be treated not as terrorists, as they are by most countries, but as an “insurgent force”, with rights under the laws of war. On June 8th he surprised everyone again by calling on the same guerrillas to give up the struggle they had waged for four decades, release their 700 or so hostages and recognise that guerrilla warfare in Latin America “is history”.

In this latest reversal Mr Chávez is plainly doing his belated best to extract himself from an embarrassment. Computer files seized by Colombia during a raid on a FARC camp inside Ecuador two months ago appeared to confirm that Venezuela has been helping the guerrillas—and that Mr Chávez's call for an upgrading of the FARC's status was part of a strategy he had cooked up with its leaders.

At Colombia's behest, Interpol has inspected the computer drives and confirmed that they have not been tampered with. Venezuela says their content is fabricated: its government is mounting a propaganda offensive to convince the world of that. But the fact that many governments have been queuing up to ask Colombia whether their own intelligence services can see the files suggests that they believe the contents to be genuine. And although Colombia has its detractors in the region, most countries consider it bad manners to provide help to a guerrilla movement that is inflicting mayhem on its neighbour.

Even before the dent this affair has now put in his international reputation, Mr Chávez had troubles on the home front. In December voters narrowly rejected his proposal to rewrite Venezuela's 1999 constitution along “socialist” lines and include a measure that would provide for the indefinite re-election of the president. It was Mr Chávez's first significant electoral defeat after nearly a decade in power. Since then, he has sought to reintroduce elements of the rejected constitution, in part by using a far-reaching enabling law, passed last year, to legislate by decree.

But Venezuelan society has proven remarkably resistant. Teachers, parents and students have blocked the introduction of a politically inspired school curriculum and the abolition of university-entrance requirements. The private media forced a retreat on attempts to charge them exorbitant fees for material from a state-owned television channel. And a decree setting up a new intelligence-system, dubbed the “Gestapo law”, was repealed on June 10th, less than a fortnight after its introduction, following an outcry from human-rights groups. This would have obliged people to co-operate with intelligence agencies or face up to six years in jail.

Were Mr Chávez the all-powerful dictator some of his critics paint him as, he might well have ignored the protests. But despite his past as a failed coup-leader, he is constrained by the need to operate within the bounds of a democracy, albeit an imperfect one. On November 23rd he will face a fresh electoral test, when the country votes for new state governors and mayors.

Amidst an economic slowdown, annual inflation of around 30% and an unprecedented crime-wave, his prospects of avoiding another humiliating defeat look slim. A new drubbing at the polls would be likely to dash any hope of reviving his plan to evade the constitutional ban on his re-election in 2012. A reaffirmation of the expiry date of his presidency would, in its turn, fire the starting gun of the race to succeed him, thereby further undermining his authority.

Some pundits argue that the recent spate of U-turns simply reflects a populist president's desire to avoid alienating the electorate. The more conspiratorially minded believe that the introduction of unpalatable measures, followed by partial retreats, is a deliberate strategy. They suggest that Mr Chávez is seeking to unsettle the political climate to such an extent that he retains the option to suspend the November elections if the polls look adverse.

A simpler reason for Mr Chávez's many U-turns may be that he has a habit of making policy mistakes, which then require correction. A few months ago, for example, the government announced a series of measures to prevent the economy from overheating. But it overdid the course-correction. In the first quarter of this year, the annual growth rate slowed by around four points, to 4.8%, in comparison with the same period last year. On June 11th, in yet another about-turn, the president announced that some of the measures in the original package would be reversed.

Still, amid all the tactical confusion, Mr Chávez does not appear to have lost sight of his two main strategic goals: the installation of a “socialist revolution” in Venezuela and his own indefinite re-election. After his defeat in the December referendum, a huge billboard went up on a building not far from the presidential palace. “Por ahora” (“For now”), it read.

That should be a warning. His foes have learnt the hard way that it is dangerous to underestimate Mr Chávez. He is fond of citing the battle of Santa Inés, in the war for independence from Spain, when a feigned retreat led to victory. As November's election approaches, he is working hard to make sure that he holds on to as many as possible of the 20 states (out of a total of 24) that are currently in chavista hands. He has repeatedly told his followers that if important states were to fall to the opposition, his own future would be in doubt—even going so far as to suggest that in such an event “there would be war”. It is too soon to count him out.